


Back To You Ficlet - Springtime

by balfeheughlywed



Series: Back To You Ficlets [3]
Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 17:17:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20029462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balfeheughlywed/pseuds/balfeheughlywed
Summary: Jamie waits (im)patiently to see the changes in his wife's growing body. Pregnancy fluff and a little smut picking up after the end of Back To You, Part 2.





	Back To You Ficlet - Springtime

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is a ficlet I wrote for the #one quote one shot challenge we are doing on tumblr. The quote I was given to include was: "Not the same thing, is it?" I said. "Loving and wanting, I mean." He laughed, a little huskily. "Damn close, Sassenach, for me at least." I could feel the strength of his wanting, hard and urgent.
> 
> I feel a little rusty writing, but this was a fun way to dip my feet back into the writing pool. It's a little NSFW at the end, but nothing obscene. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy! XOXO.

Growing up on such an expansive farm, Jamie had always been fascinated by the spring. The way the wilted branches and plants slowly bloomed back to life, their empty limbs and stems springing up with something  _ new, _ a promise of renewal that would never end. 

He could remember vividly the way he would watch the trees when the weather began to turn, waiting for the small buds to appear. Every day, he would watch, his eyes focused on the dozens of trees that surrounded their home and property, knowing that one day,  _ finally, _ he would see the proof of the turning season.

But every year, it eluded him. Every year, the trees and flowers bloomed seemingly overnight, so suddenly it was like he hadn’t been watching earnestly for weeks, waiting to see it happen with his very own eyes. 

He couldn’t help but think that his wife’s body changed just like the springtime, too.

He had been watching intently  _ (and discreetly, he hoped) _ for weeks to see the physical evidence of his child growing inside of Claire. The changes during the remainder of her first trimester were minimal. She spent weeks continuing to fight nausea and bouts of morning sickness, the circles under her eyes becoming more pronounced as she fought off extreme tiredness. He would often come home from work to find her already asleep in their bed, the comforter pulled up to her chin, her textbooks and study materials scattered next to her. He would gently jostle her awake, making whatever dinner she could keep down that night  _ (pancakes with little syrup, lasagna from the Italian restaurant down the street, or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches) _ before she would fall back asleep with her head in his lap, his fingers running through her curls, the television now turned on in the background. 

As the nausea wore off and she entered her second trimester, she began to complain regularly that her pants would no longer fit her, though she looked the same to him.

“Don’t you see how bloated I am?” she had sighed one morning as she pulled on a pair of jeans, her small fingers pulling and stretching at the band as she wiggled her arse into them. 

Jamie had paused from buttoning up his shirt, his eyes meeting hers in their dresser mirror. His eyes flickered up and down her body, a small smile quirking up his lips. “Ye look the same as ye always do, Sassenach. Ye ken ye always struggle to fit that arse into those jeans.”

Her eyes had narrowed, a dangerous glint coming into them. “Are you calling my arse  _ fat?” _

“Aye, I am,” he had laughed, “and ye ken fine well that’s just how I like it.” 

He had walked over to her then, reaching down to cup said arse in his hands, giving her bottom a gentle squeeze of affection before wrapping his arms around her middle, bringing her to rest against him, her back to his chest. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, placing a soft kiss along the tender skin by her ear, a soft sigh of pleasure his reward. 

He pulled back to rest his head against hers, his eyes sweeping along the lines of her body once more. Subtle changes were indeed starting to happen to her, but nothing significant like he was waiting for. Her hair seemed shinier, fuller, and her skin was rosier than it had been in weeks, now that she was no longer getting sick. But her stomach was still flat, no noticeable bump emerging despite Claire feeling like her middle section was growing rounder every day. 

“Ye look the same, mo nighean donn,” he had reassured her, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

She had smiled at that, a hum of acknowledgment coming from her that turned into a wry laugh as she squeezed his arms before stepping away, wriggling back out of her jeans and into a pair of leggings. “I guess these will have to do,” she had shrugged, resigned. 

That had been weeks ago, and he was still watching, still waiting. 

He was currently lounging around on their bed, waiting for Claire to get home from a late evening on campus. It was the first time in a long time they hadn’t had dinner together  _ (which meant he had texted Joe several times, checking to make sure she had actually taken a break to get herself and the baby something to eat, Joe patiently replying to each text with a detailed answer of what she had bought and then providing photographic proof of Claire and her meal, fork in hand). _ He found himself checking the time on his phone often, impatient for her to get home. 

He finally heard the scratch of the key in their lock before the door swung open and then shut, Claire’s voice muffled from the entryway. “Husband, I’m home!”

She appeared in the doorway, shrugging out of her jacket and dropping it on the floor next to her before she walked over to him, leaning down to give him a lingering kiss. 

“I missed ye,” he mumbled against her lips, hands curling into her hair as he pulled her closer to him. 

“I missed you, too,” she smiled, giving him another kiss before pulling away. She glanced over her shoulder at the television before looking back at him, her eyes narrowed slightly. “You better not have started another episode of Stranger Things without me.”

“When have I ever done that?”

“Never, but I know how much you love this show so I wouldn’t have been surprised. I’m sorry I had a late night. Wait for me to take a quick shower and then we can watch?”

“Aye. Take your time,” he smiled, settling himself back against his pillows again, watching as she walked into their bathroom, closing the door behind her, the sound of the water turning on following soon after. 

He flipped aimlessly through various television channels, listening to the sound of the shower and eventually, the buzz of her hair dryer before she finally opened the door to their bathroom and stepped out, the warm heat from her shower and the smell of her body wash and shampoo rushing into their bedroom behind her. She smiled at him as she set a bottle of lotion on their dresser before opening a drawer and placing a pair of her fuzzy socks beside it.

“Sorry. Just give me another minute and I’ll be ready to go.”

“No worries,” he said, enjoying the view from his perch on top of their bed. She was wearing a thin white shirt that was too big for her  _ (another victim she had clearly stolen from his drawer), _ her fingers combing gently through her long curls. Her skin was still pink from her shower, and if she would  _ just _ bend over a little bit, he would get a delightful view of that arse he loved so much…

Instead, she turned to the side and grabbed the bottle of lotion, squeezing a small amount into one hand before she lifted the hem of her shirt, exposing what was underneath. 

He couldn’t help the sharp inhale of breath that filled his lungs and the room.

She looked up at him, her hand suspended in midair as their eyes locked. She looked at him in confusion before following the path his eyes had taken, her own looking down at her stomach before back up to his face, her own flushing slightly. 

With his wife still turned to the side, he had the ideal view of the familiar lines and curves of her body; and there, right in her middle, was a new, perfect roundness, the visual proof of the existence of their child he had been waiting so long to see.

Just like the seasons, she had bloomed overnight.

“Ye’ve a belly now,” he said softly, his voice full of awe.

She swallowed hard. “I do,” she confirmed, her hand finally coming down to rest on her stomach, gently rubbing the lotion into her skin. Before he knew it, he was moving from his spot on the bed to stand in front of her, his own hand coming up slowly, hovering over her stomach for a moment before he gently placed it on her skin. 

His hand moved back and forth over her bump, feeling the rise and curve in her body that hadn’t been there before. He couldn’t help the delighted laugh that came out of his mouth, the sudden sting of tears behind his eyes taking him by surprise. 

He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead before kneeling down so he was eye level with her stomach. He continued to stroke her skin, his heart so full he thought it would burst. “Hello there, wee one. I’ve been waiting to see ye like this.” He pressed his lips against her stomach, whispers of Gaelic endearments tumbling out of his mouth without abandon. 

He felt Claire’s hands come down to cradle his head, her fingers rubbing the skin along his collar line before burying themselves in his curls. They stayed like that for several moments, holding each other, Jamie’s lips pressed to her stomach before he reached for her left hand, kissing the rings he had placed there not long ago.

His voice was thick with emotion when he spoke. 

“God, Sassenach. I wanted ye from the moment I saw you, and I’ve loved you nearly as long. But I dinna think I could love ye more than I do right now.”

“Not the same thing, is it?” she said. “Loving and wanting, I mean.”

He laughed, a little huskily. “Damn close, Sassenach, for me at least.” He could feel the strength of his wanting, hard and urgent. He moved his eyes away from her stomach, his own lurching slightly when he saw the look of unease on her face before she dropped her gaze to the ground. 

His eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as he watched her for a moment, watched the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other before tugging her shirt back down over her stomach.

It hit him then, his heart squeezing and expanding at the same time for her — she was feeling self-conscious, unsure of what his reaction to her changing body would be. 

_ Not the same thing, is it? Loving and wanting? _

If only she knew he had been waiting,  _ wanting _ for this moment for months.

He stood back up and sat on the edge of their bed, his eyes locked on her. “Come here to me,” he said softly, reaching a hand out to coax her forward until she was right in front of him, his hands rubbing at her hips and belly once more before reaching for the hem of her  _ (his) _ shirt.

He tugged gently, her arms coming up slowly  _ (almost hesitantly), _ finally allowing him to pull the thin material over her head. He tossed it aside, his eyes taking in the sight of her standing between his legs, his breath catching as he looked her over. 

Her bottom lip was nestled beneath her teeth, her cheeks flushing pink as she watched him watch her. Her hair had fallen to one side, a riot of curls that cascaded over and down her shoulder. Her breasts had grown more than he had realized, the already perfect shapes of them spilling up and out of a bra he had taken off of her dozens of times before, the barest hint of her nipples visible to him over the satin cups. 

He swallowed hard, feeling his pulse begin to race as he took in the way her body had changed. 

She was living, breathing sex, and she didn’t know it. 

But she would. 

With one hand on her hip, holding her close, he brought the other up to her chest, letting his fingers trail a slow path over the swell of one breast to the other, watching the way his fingertips dipped and rose with her skin before cupping a breast in his hand, a soft sigh from one of them filling the air as his thumb stroked her nipple through the material. 

“My bras are getting too small.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I’m going to have to buy new ones soon.”

“Aye,” he whispered back, the hand that had been on her hip moving up along her body  _ (hip and waist and beautiful, perfect curves) _ to carefully palm both breasts. He leaned forward, placing a kiss to her breast bone, drawing her in closer and breathing her in. 

He felt, rather than heard her swallow, her hands coming to rest around the back of his neck as she swayed into him. “They’ll be maternity bras.”

“Mmhmm,” he mumbled in agreement, his mouth fastening to her skin once more. “They’ll be sexy.”

He reached around and unhooked the clasp of her bra then, pulling back to watch the way it began to fall away from her body, leaving her only partially covered. He moved the straps down her arms, his fingertips trailing along her skin, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. He dropped it on the floor, his breathing uneven  _ (ragged) _ as he took in the sight of her before him, almost completely bare. 

“Jamie…” she breathed out. 

“You are so beautiful, my own.” 

She shook her head, curls falling across her face. “I’m getting…  _ big.” _

He made a noise of disagreement, one he knew she would describe as  _ Scottish. _ “Ye’re glowing. Did ye ken that?” He let his palm rest against her stomach, rubbing slowly back and forth, his forehead pressed against hers. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for months. To see ye growing rounder, knowing it’s with my child… ye dinna have any idea how sexy you are.”

She met his eyes then, her expression almost shy. “Will you show me?”

He didn’t have to be asked twice. He brought her lips down to his, his fingers tangling in her curls as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, their kiss hot and slow at the same time. He thumbed her underwear past her hips, waiting for her to step out of them before he stood and picked her up, placing her gently in the middle of their bed. 

He shed his boxers before pulling his shirt off over his head, leaving them both in a heap on the floor. She reached for him as he climbed next to her, pulling him down to her as their lips met again. He stretched his body out next to hers, skin meeting skin along every inch of their bodies as their fingers began to touch and explore, caressing the lines they’d both memorized months and months before. 

His mouth moved from her lips to her neck, fastening on her pulse point and sucking lightly. She arched into him with a breathy sigh as he rolled on top of her, continuing his meandering path down her body. He cupped her breasts again, his thumbs circling her nipples before taking one in his mouth, her eyes squeezing tightly shut as he sucked at her. 

He paid equal attention to both breasts, her hips beginning to squirm underneath him, a whimpered moan passing from her lips followed by her pleading his name. He hummed against her in response, hands sliding down her sides as his mouth moved to her stomach, pressing a soft, gentle kiss there before he settled himself between her legs. 

He slid one hand down the smooth skin of her thigh, hooking it behind her knee and sliding it up, opening her to him. He touched her then, fingers teasing the slick wetness of her before he buried his face between her legs, mouth sucking and tongue searching. 

She grabbed at his curls, her fingers threading through his hair, pulling slightly at him. He slid one hand up her body to knead a breast, feeling the way her legs clenched around him, her squeaks and whimpers making him so hard he was afraid it was almost painful. 

He could tell she was close; her legs were beginning to tremble and the words she had been saying  _ (his name, please, oh God, I can’t, his name again) _ had turned into unintelligible consonants and vowels and cries. Without conscious thought, he pulled away, moving over her as he drove himself inside of her. 

Her legs wrapped around his waist as his hips began a slow, languid pace against hers. It felt  _ different _ somehow, the feeling of her skin against his heightened, knowing as his stomach brushed against hers that their child was nestled between them. 

He could feel her nails digging into his shoulders, her hips tightening around his as she tried to increase his pace. He watched her, her face contorted with pleasure, her eyes still closed, her hair fanning the pillow like a halo. 

He angled her just…  _ so, _ and then she was clenching around him as he whispered the dirty things he wanted to do to her in her ear, his own finish following with two more thrusts, their chests heaving as their bodies slowly stilled, still joined together. 

He felt the light sheen of sweat covering his body, her own skin glistening as she let go of him to lean back into the pillows, her legs never leaving his waist. He covered her body gently with his own, careful not to put his weight on her stomach and crush her or the baby. He kissed each breast and then her neck, letting his head rest there for a minute. 

“Jamie?” 

“Hmm?” he mumbled against her skin. 

“Thank you.”

He looked up at her then, his forehead creased in confusion. “For what?”

She smiled a little, her eyes locked on his as she played with the curls at the nape of his neck. “For loving and wanting me the way you do.”

He shook his head at her, a half-smile curving his lips. “Always. Ye dinna need to thank me for that. It just…  _ is.” _ He slipped a hand back to her stomach then, feeling her bump, knowing he would never get enough of it. “Our bairn is in here, Sassenach.”

She rested a hand on top of his, her smile growing wider. “I know. And in a few weeks, we’ll find out if it’s a boy or a girl. You ready for that, Fraser?”

He nodded, his lips seeking hers, his heart beating faster at the knowledge that soon he would know if he would have a son or a daughter. “Ready, Fraser.”


End file.
